25. Daisy
25
DAISY
“ I just think I should get an ever-so-slightly large cut of the trust fund, just so that Reese and I can rent a two-bedroom and I can have my own bathroom,” I said as I diced a mound of tomatoes for the caprese salad for the party tomorrow afternoon.
“Mom, that’s not fair. She already used more than her fair share because she’s an adult toddler and is cosplaying Rory Gilmore and spending, like, ten years in college,” Drew complained.
“I am the one who saved the trust fund.” I flicked some tomato goop at him. “Aaron is a self-absorbed monster. I am suffering here.”
“You live in a mansion, Aaron lets you buy whatever you want, and he’s even letting you play Marie Antoinette in his backyard,” Brooklyn argued as she sliced potatoes.
“He was very friendly, not to mention helpful and polite when we had our garden workday,” my mother admonished me. “I think you need to be a little nicer to Aaron.”
“Nicer?” I shrieked.
“You’re not getting any younger,” Granny Madge told me. “You could do worse than Aaron Richmond.”
“Actually, no, I literally can’t.”
“Your little sister’s getting married before you.” My grandmother poked me. “Might want to cut your losses.”
Jordan made a face. “Didn’t Daisy already get married?”
“It doesn’t count,” Brooklyn said, sprinkling salt into the bowl. “She didn’t have sex with him. Or did you, Daisy?”
I tensed. This conversation wasn’t going to devolve into sex talk, was it? I could not have the fam finding out I was a virgin with a capital V .
“Here’s what you do,” Granny Madge insisted. “You need to sneak into his bed one night, whip your titties out, and ask him if he wants a midnight snack.”
My chest became tight.
So, yeah, no one in my family read contracts. And I wasn’t exactly going to tell them what all a contractually obligated marriage with Aaron Richmond looked like.
I whacked a tomato, wishing it was Aaron’s stupid, lying face. Reese had already left to go help her dad chase seagulls out of their attic while he yelled drunken directions, so I didn’t have anyone to complain to about how Aaron was literally about to have sex with Aurora right after he lied and told me he thought I was attractive.
It was all one big manipulative web.
Whack!
I scraped the ruby-red cubes into the bowl.
The knife almost slipped when we were interrupted by the sound of knocking on the glass French doors.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman.”
“Aaron!”
“You kids and your refusal to use first names.”
My parents rushed to greet him with a hug while my siblings crowded around him, asking about the garden and the yacht ride.
“Are you taking it out again?”
“Reese showed us photos. It’s a nice yacht.”
“Alex wants to have her bachelorette party on it,” Jordan yelped.
“That isn’t what I meant. We’re not begging Aaron for his stuff.” Alex tossed her hair. “I just said a bachelorette on a yacht would be nice.”
“It’s not actually mine,” Aaron explained. “Boats are an extreme liability. It’s my brother’s.”
“Are your brothers coming tomorrow?” Brooklyn grinned.
“They RSVP’d!” my mom sang.
“Of course they did.” Aaron sighed.
“Coffee, Aaron? Daisy just made a fresh pot.”
“Daisy does know how to make coffee.”
I ignored him.
“Mom, Aaron’s not staying, and he’s not drinking coffee. That’s my special blend. What do you want, Aaron?” I barked at him.
“Daisy,” my mother scolded, pouring Aaron a cup. “That is not how we act as a hostess.”
“I’m sure it’s my fault,” Aaron said smoothly.
Manipulative bastard.
“I actually came over to talk to Daisy, if my wife would step outside.”
The twins tittered.
“I’m not your wife.” I scraped the tomato into the bowl.
“Coleman, please…”
“Like he ever says ‘please’ when he doesn’t have an audience.”
Aaron sighed, as if I were the one being difficult. Two-faced asshole.
Screw him.
“I’m busy.” I gestured grandly to the pile of tomatoes. “So you can say whatever it is here.”
“Fine.” He set his coffee cup on the counter.
Whack! My knife came down.
“Per the marriage contract that you signed, we have to share a bed. Now, there are no open hotel rooms in the vicinity. That means you can sleep at Bill and Michelle’s house with me or I can sleep here. Your choice.”
Bastard.
My family erupted.
“I mean, where did you think she was sleeping?” Granny Madge shouted to my shocked father. “A man like that. This is a good thing. The girl’s a late bloomer. I’m not pointing fingers, but you spoil her!”
I pointed the knife at Aaron before he could say anything.
“None of this is your business,” I yelled at my family. “And you…”
“I tried to call you, Coleman, but you didn’t respond. You have until midnight to decide, then I’ll decide for you.”
“Excuse me?” my mother said sharply. “You’re forcing my daughter to be in your bed with you?”
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Coleman,” Aaron said smoothly, “I had assumed your daughter already explained the situation. I assure you and your husband it’s just a technically. There is a line of paint down the middle of a very large bed.”
My mom relaxed.
My dad still had tears in his eyes.
My brother was trying to tell him that it didn’t mean anything and certainly didn’t entitle me to more of the trust fund.
“Just tell your old gran,” Granny Madge hissed out of the side of her mouth. “Did you cop a feel while he was sleeping?”
“I’m not assaulting him,” I hissed.
“Daisy kicks and gets makeup everywhere. I stay on my side,” Aaron said, the subtext clear.
And that was the problem. Nothing about me was tempting enough for him to cross that line. Not like Aurora.
It never was.
I would forever be Dump Truck Daisy with bad hair and acne.
“Is Daisy taking her makeup off at night, Aaron?” my mother asked. “Please tell me she’s putting on sunscreen in the morning.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Aaron said, his eyes wide.
“Dickwad!” I shrieked.
“You’re going to have enough trouble as it is finding a man who wants you with that divorce on your record,” Alex said, sniffing. “You don’t want wrinkles in the mix too.”
“I feel bad for you, man.” Drew clapped Aaron on the back. “I bet she trashed your bathroom.”
“For someone who doesn’t shower regularly, she sure does make a mess in there,” Aaron agreed.
“I shower daily,” I said loudly.
“You shower once in the morning,” Aaron replied.
“In the summer, I shower twice,” Drew said.
“Same,” Aaron agreed, “but I’m picking my battles. Everything smells like coffee grounds too.”
“Aaron, get out, and family, stop talking to him.”
My mom poured his coffee in a to-go cup.
“I’m sorry, Aaron. She’s been very sensitive lately.”
“She’s not pregnant, is she?” Brooklyn piped up.
Aaron grabbed my hand before I could accidentally add a finger to the pile of diced tomatoes.
“I can come over and help set up tomorrow if you want,” Aaron added carefully.
My mom beamed at him.
“I’d love a big strong man to help!” she said.
My dad handed him a secret cheese plate. “One for the road.”
“That’s my plate,” I yelled.
“You’re already asking a lot of that romper you were planning on wearing tomorrow, Daisy,” Alex said pointedly.
Phone in hand, I wandered back into my bedroom, scrolling through Instagram and toweling my hair after showering in the small ensuite bathroom that was mine alone, as was my right as the oldest. After using Aaron’s massive bathroom, though, this one was leaning heavily on the shabby part of shabby chic.
“Your grandmother sent up some sort of perverted sex-paraphernalia basket,” a deep male voice announced.
I screamed, sending Dorian in a cartoonish scrabble from where he was napping on my pillows, scattering the papers that Aaron was reviewing all over the floor.
“Why are you in my bedroom?”
“I told you, Coleman.” Aaron set his laptop aside, standing up and ducking so he didn’t hit his head on the sloped ceiling. “We have to share a bed.”
He knelt in front of me and tapped his stack of papers.
“Do my parents know you’re up here?” I demanded.
“Your family practically threw me a welcome-home party when I showed up.” He raised his eyebrows. “Guess they don’t want to end up in the poor house.”
I clutched my towel.
“Okay, well, you can’t use my bathroom.”
He snorted.
“I’m serious. You have to go downstairs.”
“Now, Daisy, that’s not how a good hostess behaves.” My mother barged in.
“Mom, I told you to knock.”
“You said you weren’t having sex with the man.” Gran hustled in behind her.
“I wanted to make sure your bathroom was clean for Aaron,” my mom stated.
“He’s not going in there.”
“I had to run to the store to get the bigger condoms.” Granny Madge stuffed them in the sex-positive gift basket that sat on my bookcase.
Alex and my father crowded in the doorway.
“This is my private room,” I yelled to the ceiling.
“I was just going to remind you to hide all that weird fanfiction you wrote about Aaron.” Alex inspected her impeccable nails.
“Peggy, I can’t get the washer machine to just do the spin cycle,” my father said. “Daisy, does Aaron want some shrimp cocktail?”
“No one wants shrimp at twelve thirty at night, Dad. Mom, the bathroom is fine.”
My mom pulled on her rubber gloves.
“You can use our bathroom, Aaron!” The twins giggled from around my dad.
“Yikes,” Drew called from the hallway. “Jailbait One and Jailbait Two over here. Don’t send our meal ticket to prison, ladies.”
“Drew!” my father yelled at my brother, swatting him with a pillow while the twins preened in front of my bewildered husband.
“Since Aaron is here, Peggy,” my father said as my mom pulled out a mop, “can we pause the healthy breakfast? I’m sure Aaron would like an omelet and maybe deep-fried French toast in the morning.”
“Yes! Yes!” My siblings crowded Aaron. “He loves it. It’s his favorite food.”
Alex rolled her eyes while the rest of our siblings begged.
I did like deep-fried French toast.
“Take one for the team, Aaron,” I told him.
“Daisy,” my mom called, “where is your step stool?”
“My what? Mom, I don’t have one.”
“I gave you a squatty potty for Christmas two years ago,” Granny Madge reminded me as she rummaged through my closet.
I almost pulled at my hair and screamed, except both my hands were firmly trying to keep my towel up.
“You have a light bulb out, Daisy.” My mother stuck her head out of the bathroom to admonish me. “How long has that been out?”
“That sconce has three bulbs. If one of them is out, what does it matter?” I argued.
“I’ll go get a bulb, Mom,” Drew offered, “since I’m a good son who wants our guest to feel comfortable, including being served deep-fried French toast for breakfast.”
“No need,” Peggy sniffed. “I had a feeling this might be an issue. I brought one with me.”
“It’s a masterclass of hosting, Mom. Like French toast,” Drew said.
“Suck up,” I hissed.
“Where is that step stool?”
“I’m can probably reach it,” Aaron offered.
My female family members all giggled when Aaron, looking like a giant in the tiny pink bathroom, easily reached up to swap the burnt-out bulb.
“Daisy, are these all your dirty clothes, or do you have some under the bed?” My mom picked up my dirty underwear.
“This is why I could never share a room with her,” Alex declared. “My condolences, Aaron.”
“I just try and dissociate,” he said dryly.
“Can you all please get out of my room?” I asked.
“You can say thank you when people do your laundry for you.” My mom picked up the rest of my dirty clothes.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“French toast!” Drew begged as he followed my family out.
I slammed the door and turned to regard the intruder.
“This bed is not big enough for one person.”
“It’s a double bed. Mine”—he jerked his head across to the shared drive, where a light burned through the small round window—“is a single. This is the least bad option.”
“You’re here to torment me.”
When I came out from trying to struggle into my clothes in the small bathroom, Aaron was sitting on the edge of my bed, manspreading and reading, with Dorian curled up next to him.
I busied myself closing the drapes so I didn’t have to look at my husband.
The mattress creaked.
I whirled around.
“Get off my pillow.” I dragged it out from under his head.
This was punishment. The universe was punishing me for all the times I’d lain awake in bed, wishing Aaron would sneak into my room, Edward Cullen from Twilight style, and surprise me awake with his hands down my undies.
Dorian padded over and curled up in a neat gray ball on Aaron’s chest.
Traitorous animal.
The door to my room slowly opened a crack. The twins giggled outside.
“Do you need a blanket?”
“Extra toothpaste?”
“Mooommm!” I yelled.
“Girls!” my mom shouted, coming up the stairs.
“Daisy, you have extra pillows and a blanket in here,” she said, going over to the window seat at the bay window. “This is why you insisted we put this reading nook in.”
“No, I wanted that so I could pretend to be Alice in Wonderland, not to host unwanted guests.”
My mom tucked a pillow under Aaron’s head and spread a blanket on him.
“He’s a grown man, Mom.”
She kissed the top of his head.
“Just call if you need anything, Aaron!”
“Anything.” The twins cackled.
“ Girls ,” my dad yelled up the stairs.
I slammed the door after my sisters, flicked off the light, then huffed and lay down next to Aaron. I scooted as far as I could to the edge of the bed.
But my hip was still way too close to his. And why in God’s name did the man have to have such massive shoulders? His freaking shoulders took up two-thirds of the double bed.
I rolled over on my side. Not my preferred way to sleep, which was sprawled out on my stomach.
Part of me longed for his arms to wrap around me, for his large body to cradle mine, for him to stroke my hair, nuzzle my neck, and tilt my face back and kiss me like I bet he did to Aurora after I could no longer torture myself and ran back downstairs so I didn’t have to watch him make love to her. I wanted him to tell me how he had been waiting all day to do this, to be alone with me.
But he and his massive shoulders just silently took up space on my bed and judged me.
Any normal man who was actually attracted to me would use the opportunity to make out with me.
Aaron let out a breath. “Coleman…”
The mattress shifted and dipped like he was half sitting up.
I felt the heat of him against my back. He was too close.
“You can’t take this personally, Coleman. Aurora, the marriage, your family, none of it. It’s business.” His eyelashes fluttered against my cheek. “You can’t care about me, Coleman.” Two fingers rested on my chin, turning me toward him.
“But,” he added, “if it makes it easier for you to spread your legs for me…” His green eyes glittered in the dark. “For you to take my cum...”
My breath caught.
“I can kiss you, tell you how much I want you, how much you mean to me, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Bastard. Fucking bastard.
And yet I wanted to lose myself in the lie, in the false promise of a future with him.
Because no matter what, I had never gotten over Aaron Richmond.
“My mom was up here, literally tucking you in. You and I are already way too enmeshed. I’m not letting you ruin my last safe space, since you already have my parents on your side,” I snapped.
“Poor little princess alone in her tower.” His voice dropped. “Take it from a professional: your parents don’t actually care about me. Don’t worry.” His fingers trailed lightly along my jaw. “Your mom will forget all about me as soon as the marriage is over and your family’s fortune is secured. They’ll go back to pampering you. To do that, though, we have to complete the contract.” His fingers trailed down my waist to my hip.
“Do you want me to make love to you, Princess? Make you feel special? Worship you?” Aaron’s fingers trailed lower, lower, sending my stomach into a tailspin. “All you have to do is lie there. I’ll make sure you’re good and ready for me. You’re already halfway there, aren’t you?” he purred.
I wanted to give in, but Aaron Richmond hadn’t torched my self-esteem enough for me to accept this pity sex or whatever the hell this was from him.
He leaned in and nuzzled my neck softly. If he were any other man, I’d say “tenderly.”
“You nice and wet for me, Princess?”
He grunted when my knee came up and connected with his rib.
“Next time you call me Princess, I’m kicking you in the balls.”